No other option
by Keltic Banshee
Summary: After the events in "Small Worlds", the only member of the team speaking to Jack is, surprisingly, Ianto. Part of the Episode Codas I'm writing for my Seduction'verse.
1. Chapter 1: Ianto

Previously posted on my LiveJournal, dated April 11th, 2009.

* * *

Ianto was already making coffee when the team stormed into the Hub after their encounter with the Fairies. He had spotted them through the CCTV, making their way from the SUV in an obvious very bad mood. As he walked through the cog door, Owen went straigh to the autopsy bay, ignoring every attempt to talk to him, muttering what sounded like venom directed at the world in general and nobody in particular while he paced around his domains. Gwen came in after him and made her way to the boardroom, possibly to tidy up the mess the team had left behind, which Ianto had only see her do when she needed to escape from the main area. Tosh walked in calmly, sat at her desk and started working on a piece of alien tech that had been lying there for a few months, eyes following Jack as he headed to his office, hands in his pockets.

Loading the tray with five mugs, Ianto started his coffee round. He made his way down to the boardroom, leaving a mug on the table for Gwen, who gave him a small smile before busying herself in the papers scattered around her again. Going back to the main area, he walked over to Tosh's desk. She gave him a grateful look as she grabbed her drink and took a sip.

"He shouldn't be alone," she whispered, her eyes flitting from where Ianto held them to the closed door of Jack's office. Ianto nodded and moved along, leaving a coffee on the edge of the stairs for Owen, who barely grunted a thank you. With a heavy sigh, Ianto walked into Jack's office and placed a drink on his desk. Jack looked up; he seemed tired.

"I'll be in the Archives if you need me, Sir," Ianto muttered, leaving Jack's office before the other man had a chance to speak. He walked out the room through the door that led directly to the bowels of the Hub, his own mug in his hand, leaving the tray propped against the wall on his way downstairs. The expression he saw on Jack's face as he turned his head and stole a glance made it painfully obvious it had been a hard day for the Captain as well.

Ianto spent the rest of the afternoon hidden away in his domains, waiting for everybody to go home, half hoping Jack would disappear in one of his nightly roof walks, half hoping he would stay. Eventually he settled in front of the security monitors, watching as first Gwen, then a disappointed Tosh after Owen – once again – completely missed – or ignored – what was probably an invitation to join her for a drink, and finally the medic himself, grabbing his jacked and kicking his chair under his desk, left the Hub. Finally they were alone.

Ianto took a deep breath as he approached the desk area, still not sure he was being sensible. Tosh was right, Jack shouldn't be on his own after whatever had happened, but Ianto doubted he was the best person to keep him company. He stopped for a second and leaned against the wall, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair. His mind wandered back to earlier that morning, from Jack patting his shoulder as he tried to concentrate in the strange weather patterns, to the already haunted look in Jack's eyes that disappeared when he schooled his face and became, once again, Captain Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three and deeply worried about funny patches of rain in case they were alien. He stood up again, loosened his tie a little. He may not be the best person to keep Jack company, but no one else would do it.

A few minutes later, Ianto walked into Jack's office, footsteps light on the concrete floors, and leaned on the door jamb, left hand casually in his pocket. It took Jack a moment to lift his head and look at Ianto, the coffee he had delivered earlier still going cold on the desk. Ianto's felt his resolution to make some small chat and leave waver; something in Jack's stance - hunched shoulders, hands curled in a fist - spoke of tiredness, of defeat.

"You shouldn't be here," Jack stated for the second time of the day. Ianto paused for a second, considering, then his lips curled in the beginning of a smile. They stared at each other for an instant, just like they had earlier.

"Neither should you." Ianto's replied was warm, just as it had been that morning, and he wondered where that warmth came from. They were still watching each other, eyes duelling as Jack tilted his head and stretched his neck. Ianto could nearly see the tension of the day accumulated in his muscles. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"Why are you still here, Ianto?" Jack let out a sigh and looked up; there was a hint of curiosity in his voice. Ianto wondered what to say. Company? Jack would probably turn it into a flirting match. Making sure Jack was all right? Too close to the truth.

"You shouldn't be alone, Sir. Not after... not tonight." Ianto duly ignored the questioning look Jack shot him, walked to the door and stared across the Hub. Myfanwy would return during the night after stretching her wings for a while. Work was done for the day. He brought a hand to his collar and loosened his tie a bit more. "The others have already left." He could hear Jack making himself comfortable in his chair.

"They think I'm a monster for letting the Fairies take the girl." Ianto took a moment to digest Jack's words. Jack was in some way confiding in him by telling him what had happened, and Ianto wondered how Jack thought he would react. Then it hit him: he had already accused Jack of being a monster, after he set Myfanwy on Lisa. "They would've destroyed the world." Ianto nodded.

"You are the leader of Torchwood Three; you make the decisions no one else dares make." His voice came out too close too a whisper. He turned around and took a few steps towards the desk, perching at the end of it. "It wasn't the right thing to do, Jack, but there was no other option." Hands clasped together in front of him, Ianto kept his eyes on the man in front of him, knowing Jack would eventually realize what he was offering. It wasn't forgiveness; there was too much history between them for forgiveness to come so soon. It was... acceptance. Recognition. A simple acknowledgement that, faced with the same decision, he, Ianto Jones, would have done the same.

Jack gave him a thankful smile and lifted a hand to pat his arm as Ianto stood up. Jack caught his arm before he was even fully on his feet, causing Ianto to fall back onto the desk with a muffled cry of surprise, and gave him a nearly apologetic look. Ianto wondered if it would always take so much death, destruction and pain to bring the real man behind the Captain Jack Harkness façade to the surface.

"Stay?" Ianto hoped Jack didn't notice the turmoil inside him, the near wishful sigh that escaped him. Jack looked away and shook his head. "Never mind." Jack let go of his hand, and heaved out a sigh as Ianto stood up. Taking a deep breath, Ianto fetched the bottle of whisky and two glasses hidden in one of the cabinets and, putting them down on the desk, sat on the chair opposite Jack. For a second, Jack stared at him in disbelief, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. Wondering once again if what he was doing was sensible, Ianto poured two drinks and moved one closer to Jack. "Thanks." His voice was merely a whisper, his hand brushing against Ianto's as he grabbed his glass and lifted it in a silent toast. Ianto did the same, and they both took a sip, staring at each other across the desk.

"The others are not the first ones to call you a monster." Ianto put down his glass, trying to gauge Jack's reaction to his words. "They will not be the first ones to change their minds." Jack gave him a look Ianto couldn't quite decipher, before standing up and pacing around the room. He ended up by the door, overlooking the Hub, the same spot Ianto had been standing just a few minutes before.

"What if they are right? What if I am a monster?" Jack's voice sounded broken, full of pain. Ianto twisted around on his chair, not sure of what to do. Eventually he got up, took off his suit jacket, and, draping it neatly over the back of the chair, went to stand a step behind Jack, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder, just as the other man had done earlier. When Jack turned his head, Ianto could see the Captain was fighting back the tears; something seemed to break inside of Ianto as he thought maybe Jack was more human than he, or any other member of the team, ever gave him credit for. "So much death," Jack whispered, looking ahead again. "So much loss."

Ianto swallowed the knot on his throat, the last few months fast forwarding in his head. Canary Wharf. Half converted Lisa. Coming back to Cardiff. His attempts to get Jack to hire him. Catching Myfanwy, a night he had tried not to think too much about. Becoming the silent, invisible butler nobody except Jack ever noticed. Betraying Lisa with Jack, by falling into the trap the Captain had set for him without even realising. Betraying Jack with Lisa, by putting the team in danger when he smuggled her into the Hub. That horrible day when he thought he would lose everything, even his life, only to have Jack take him back in the team. That horrible night when, after his actions, his words, and his threats, Jack Harkness showed up in his doorstep with a bottle of scotch and drank with him until the morning, stubbornly decided not to leave him on his own. Maybe that was why he was still in the Hub.

Ignoring the part of him that was sensibly telling him he should get out and go home and have a good night of sleep, Ianto dug his fingers into Jack's shoulder. The other man didn't react. With a sigh, Ianto took a step back and perched on the end of the desk again, hands gripping so tightly on the edge his knuckles went white, wondering why he cared so much about this man, and, at the same time, not wanting to know the answer.

"You are not a monster, Jack." Once again, Ianto was surprised by the warmth in his voice. Without warning, Jack turned around and buried his head in Ianto's shoulder, hands clenched over Ianto's chest before slowly trailing down and settling on his waist. Ianto, caught by surprise, held his breath for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Jack, a hand between his shoulder blades, tracing small circles on his back, the other one cradling his head. Protective. Supportive.

Ianto tried to silence the little voice in his head shouting at him about how fucked up this situation was. Not that long ago, he had threatened to let this man die if given half the chance, and pulled a gun at him. Not that long ago, Jack had threatened to kill him, and knowing him, Ianto knew he would have. Now they were drawing comfort from each other after one of the worst days in recent Torchwood history. He could feel the tension of the day ebbing away from Jack as silent tears slowly dampened his shirt. Ianto muttered nonsense in Jack's ear, holding him close, wondering if there was anything he could say or do that would ease the other man's pain.

They had too much in common. They were both broken, lives marred by too much suffering, too much deception, too much death. He placed a silent, soft kiss on Jack's temple, surprised by his own reaction. Maybe that was why Jack hadn't put a bullet in his head after the Lisa incident. He snorted, wondering when he had stopped thinking about it as "the night that bastard killed my girlfriend" or "the night I clearly fucked up." He let out a sigh, kicking the part of his mind that was still trying to tell him he should get out of there quick.

Ianto felt Jack's grip on his waist tighten as the other man straightened his back and made himself comfortable leaning on his shoulder. As Jack got closer to him, Ianto's mind wandered back to the night they caught Myfanwy. To how good it felt, when he caught Jack, to be trapped under him, noses rubbing, breaths hitched. To how he laughed as they rolled on the floor to avoid the falling dinosaur. He was suddenly too aware of Jack's breath on his skin, of how close they were to one another. When he felt Jack's lips ghosting on his neck, he nearly took a step back, away from him. Yet he didn't. As Jack tried to move away, mumbling what sounded like an apology, Ianto held him, pulling him even closer, shushing him.

Ianto closed his eyes, part of him still wanting to get away from Jack, from the Hub, to go home. He snorted at the thought. A house full of boxes that he still hadn't bothered to unpack, neatly labelled and sorted so he could find anything whenever he needed it. An empty bedroom, barely a bed and a wardrobe. An empty kitchen where all he could make was tea, one sugar no milk. A place where he had barely been since he moved to Cardiff, until his suspension. Would he ever make it feel like a home? He shook his head, wondering if Tosh had noticed Jack wasn't the only one who needed company that night. He felt Jack's lips on his neck again, just barely below the collar of his shirt, and shivered, tilting his head before he realised what he was doing.

Ianto wasn't surprised by the haunted look in Jack's eyes when the other man straightened up and stared at him, barely pulling away from him. He had seen it quite a few times before, mostly when Jack thought no one could see him. He had seen it in the mirror more times than he cared to remember, after Canary Wharf, after Lisa died. The look of a man who has lost it all and still has to carry on. He let out a sigh, knowing that nothing he could say would help. Pain would ease and eventually disappear, but nothing could speed up the process.

"I shouldn't have..." Jack sounded apologetic again, but Ianto didn't let him finish. Bringing his hand from Jack's back to his cheek, Ianto placed a soft kiss on Jack's lips, slowly but firmly pushing him against the wall behind him, narrowly missing the open door. It took Jack a moment to get over the initial surprise, the kiss slowly transforming in a duel of wills and tongues. Jack's hands crept up Ianto's body and settled on the back of his neck, keeping him in place. Ianto felt his whole body react, and shamelessly pressed himself against Jack. It was the first time they were this close since Jack had found about Lisa, and Ianto had missed him.

Jack's hands slowly made their way down Ianto's back, pulling him even closer to the the Captain. Ianto closed his eyes and gave in to the touch, a soft moan escaping him as Jack bit his bottom lip, teasing, demanding and giving at the same time. Ianto was suddenly all too aware of the heat building inside him, around them, just like every time they were this close, yet every time completely different and new. Jack dug his fingers on his sides as Ianto drew back just enough to rest his forehead on Jack's, noses rubbing, mouths nearly touching. Ianto was taken aback by the intensity of the emotions trapped in Jack's eyes, fixed on Ianto's. With a sigh, he run his thumb along Jack's jawline, heart racing, thoughts spinning, not sure he wanted to think straight at the moment.

"You need some rest," he mumbled. "I should go, let you catch up on some sleep..." Despite his words, Ianto didn't move. Not even when Jack's arms closed around him again, or when Jack moved in closer and Ianto could feel the warmth of his breath on his skin. He knew if he didn't walk away now he wouldn't. He swallowed , knowing full well he didn't want to leave.

"Stay?" Just a whisper in his ear. "I...." As Jack's voice faltered, Ianto took a deep breath and waited Jack would, as always, tell him whatever he wanted to tell, in his own time, and questions wouldn't help. "I can't sleep." One of Ianto's hand wandered over Jack's neck, barely touching, reassuring, wanting, slowly tracing abstract patterns.

"I've never known you to sleep much." Jack snorted, fingers crawling up Ianto's back, leaving him wondering how the Captain had managed to untuck his shirt without him noticing.

"Less than usual." Ianto hissed when Jack bit his neck, just below the open collar, just hard enough to leave a mark, possessive and demanding yet offering so much.

"Bad dreams?" Pressing himself against Jack, Ianto wondered for a moment if the old glass wall would hold up. Jack didn't answer but replied in kind, sneaking a knee to just the right place to make Ianto gasp and shiver and marvel once again at how quickly Jack had found all the buttons to drive him crazy. The thought of coffee and small chat seemed to be a lifetime away as Ianto found himself once again trapped in Jack's arms.

Ianto's lips curled in the beginning of a sad smile when he realised that, for the first time, he felt free to enjoy what he was doing. Jack had found out about Lisa, and she was dead; there was no need for lies and deceit anymore. He could no longer tell himself he was only doing this to distract Jack. His hands, roaming over the Captain's shoulders, stopped for a moment as he filed away all the questions popping into his mind, not sure he wanted the answers right now.

All of a sudden Jack moved away from Ianto, hitting his head against the glass as he tried to break the contact, a hand still on Ianto's neck. Ianto let out a sigh, wondering whether to take a step back and give Jack some space. They stared at each other, one, two, three heartbeats, before Jack looked away.

"It always ends up in death". Ianto pulled Jack back into his arms, cradling him as he had done earlier. Jack didn't resist; barely a moment later was clutching at Ianto. "I just...." Jack kept muttering against his shoulder, not quite crying, not quite not, as Ianto just held him. He couldn't make out the words, but the emotion behind them was all too clear to him: pain, and hurt, and loss, and grief, and tiredness, even a hint of defeat and a dash of surrender.

After a while, Ianto lost track of time. Eventually he heard Myfanwy return and settle in her nest, which made it way too late to get a decent night of sleep, just like many other nights at Torchwood. Yet any other night would have been easier to face than the exhausted Jack in his arms, so unlike the larger-than-life presence that the Captain tended to be. This, Ianto thought, was the man under the masks, rarely seen by anybody, not even by Jack himself. Ianto smiled bitterly, suddenly reminded how easy it was to end up becoming the masks one wears.

"Come on. Get some rest," he whispered when Jack seemed to calm down. Slowly, he took a step back, one arm still around Jack's shoulders, and motioned him towards the entrance to his bunker. Jack took a couple of tentative steps, then stopped again.

"I told you, I can't sleep." Ianto rolled his eyes, wondering once again why he cared so much for this complicated, secretive man.

"You can at least rest." Jack turned his head and stared at him as if he were talking nonsense. "I'll stay, if you want me to." Jack nodded and gave him a small smile, before making his way down the ladder. Ianto followed him, turning off the main lights and leaving his tie on the desk. He still didn't trust Jack around ties. Not after the last time.

When he got to the bottom of the ladder, Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, head bowed, his boots discarded. With a sigh, Ianto approached him, switched on a small lamp and sat on his haunches, looking up into Jack's tired face. Jack didn't move, not even when Ianto placed a hand on his knee.

"Lie down. Close your eyes." Slowly, Jack started undoing his shirt and took it off. Ianto stood up, pulse racing, staring at his feet, and managed to catch the garment when Jack threw it across the room. Turning around, he folded it carefully and placed it over the chest of drawers in the corner, grateful for something to do while Jack got into the bed. When he finished with it, he found more items of clothing piled on the floor. As he put them away with the shirt, he heard the small bed behind him creak as Jack lay down.

When Ianto turned around again, Jack was lying on his side, under the covers, looking towards the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ianto wondered once again why he was still in the Hub, taking care of Jack, wanting to soothe the pain. He should have walked away long time ago, left Jack to sort out his own miseries. He shook his head; Jack didn't deserve that, even less after the day he had had. Without thinking, he ran a hand through the other man's hair. Jack caught it as he started to get up.

"Stay?" Ianto's lip curled in a sad smile at the irony of the situation, at the weirdness of the whole day. "You need some sleep as well." Ianto swallowed.

"You need a bigger bed," he muttered, freeing himself from Jack's hand and standing up, unbuttoning his shirt and hanging it on the back of a chair. Jack's bed was barely big enough for one, let alone two, but he already knew that when he offered to stay. Jack snorted.

"Small beds are easier to keep warm on my own." It was meant to be a witty remark, but it sounded bitter and tired. Ianto switched off the light, and the room fell into a cosy near darkness, illuminated only by the dim light coming from the office above. Taking off his shoes and leaving his trousers on the chair, Ianto walked back to the bed, shaking his head. It was strange to be back in Jack's room, in his bed, to be offering him comfort. Somehow it didn't surprise him anymore. Taking a deep breath, he sneaked under the blankets and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep.

Five minutes, a couple of elbow-on-ribs encounters and a lot of creaking from the mattress later, they both settled in for the night, Jack still facing the wall, as if wanting to hide away from the world, Ianto spooned against him, an arm drape!,d over his waist, the other under the pillow. For a moment, Ianto allowed himself to relax, feeling the warmth of Jack's body, the surprisingly comfortable mattress moulding itself under him, the noisy silence in the Hub. Blocking memories, ignoring questions, quietening everything except the here and now. He smiled when Jack grabbed his hand and held it.

"Thank you, Ianto." Barely a whisper. Ianto felt a knot on his throat, which only tightened when he noticed Jack's shoulders were shaking. Ianto held him even closer, murmuring nonsense, placing a soft kiss on his neck every now and again. He had never seen Jack so... His thoughts spun around for a moment, trying to find the words, until it suddenly hit him. Vulnerable. Emotional. Human. He bit his lip, wondering. He had seen Jack angry, betrayed, annoyed, and much more, but never so raw, so hurt. And he, Ianto Jones, who always had a backup plan for his backup plan, didn't know what to do.

Some time later, Jack seemed to calm down, and his breathing fell into the slow, regular rhythm of sleep. Ianto resisted the temptation to check his watch; knowing how late it was wouldn't make whatever time he had left until the morning any longer.

"Thank you," Ianto whispered, wondering why he had never told Jack when he could actually hear him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, and fell asleep before he had time to consider the events of the day once again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ianto was already standing by the coffee machine, freshly showered and in his spare suit, when Jack eventually came out of his office, braces hanging loose while he did up the buttons of yet another dark blue shirt over a white vest. Ianto swallowed the knot on his throat as Jack approached him, wondering how they would try to play down the night before.

"You were the last person I expected to stay last night," Jack murmured behind him as he started making coffee. "I thought Gwen may stay and give me an earful, or maybe Owen would try to drag me out on a piss-up night. But you...." Ianto spun around, holding two mugs of perfect, steaming-hot coffee, and handed one to Jack, their fingers brushing for barely a second.

"Why?" Ianto asked, taking a sip, staring at Jack, making it clear he wouldn't settle for one of Jack's silences. Jack leaned against the railings, cradling his mug in his hands, a smirk on his face that Ianto knew too well.

"You promised to make me suffer." Ianto looked away, remembering the day Lisa died, the lies and the deception that lead to it, thoughts of the many betrayals that started that night spinning in his head yet again.

"Yeah, I did." Ianto's voice was merely a whisper. "Do you really want to go over all the shit we've been through? Every betrayal, every threat, every lie?" Jack shook his head.

"Wouldn't get us anywhere." Jack hid behind the mug, averting his eyes from Ianto, who allowed himself a smirk. Jack still hid many secrets and wasn't an easy man to read, but Ianto had learnt a few basics: something had been troubling the Captain, and it was about to come out.

"Torchwood didn't give you any choices when it came to Lisa. Not Torchwood London, not us. You risked a whole universe for her." Jack lifted a hand and patted Ianto's arms.

"I don't expect any of you to understand why I did what I did." Ianto's voice broke into merely a whisper as he fought back the tears.

"Oh but we do." Jack look at Ianto, leaving him wondering, for a moment, where the pain in that voice came from. "I do." Then, all of a sudden, it all made sense.

"I know." Ianto gave Jack an enigmatic smile, knowing it would catch him off balance. He didn't really know, but he could guess well enough. He patted Jack's shoulder before making his way towards the Archives, straightening his tie. "I know," he repeated, resisting the urge to look back to see Jack's puzzled face.

"Ianto!" Jack called after him when he was about to disappear into the bowels of the Hub. He stopped and turned around, a questioning look on his face. "I'm glad you stayed." Ianto smiled and nodded.

"I'm glad you asked," he murmured.


	2. Chapter 2: Jack

Previously posted on my LiveJournal, dated April 11th, 2009.

* * *

Jack couldn't help but watch the team as they walked in front of him, their anger obvious in their stride, keeping well ahead as they made their way from the SUV to the Hub. Shaking his head, he stopped for a moment in the dimly lit corridor and sighed, hands on his waist. He wanted them to understand what he had done, but he knew it wasn't easy for them. Sometimes they still saw the world in blacks and whites, whereas he was painfully aware of the shades of grey in between. Over a century working for Torchwood would give any of them a completely different perspective. Luckily for them, they wouldn't live that long.

As he walked through the door, hands causally hidden in his pockets, he half expected a full blown argument, yet he was greeted by near silence. Tosh was sitting at her desk working on a piece that had been lying there for months; she always picked it up when she needed something complex to distract her. Gwen was nowhere to be seen; never a good sign with her, who always had a question, a remark, a need to know. Ianto was standing by the coffee machine, eyes following Jack as he made his way into his office, past the autopsy bay where Owen was pacing like a caged animal and spitting venom, probably directed at Jack for letting the Fairies take the little girl.

Hanging his coat on the hanger as he walked in, Jack nearly slammed the door as he closed it, not entirely sure whether he preferred the silence or the confrontation. As he sat behind his desk, his mind turning back to the events of the day. A family had been ripped apart. Lives had been lost. And he, Captain Jack Harkness, the dashing hero that could always be trusted to save the day, had made the final decision to sacrifice a little girl for the sake of the world. But what else could he have done? With a sigh, he buried his head in his hands, in a strange way thankful that nobody seemed inclined to talk to him; he didn't want questions.

A thud on his desk made him jump in his seat and look up, only to find Ianto standing in front of his desk, his own mug in one hand, an empty tray on the other, dark suit crisp and perfect over a white shirt, a look of concern in his eyes. Jack felt a pang of regret as he remembered how easily he had been fooled by the Ianto's calm, quiet façade, and had completely missed the danger hiding in his own basement, distracted as he had been by the intriguing young man.

"I'll be in the Archives if you need me, Sir," Ianto muttered, his eyes moving away from Jack's as soon as they met. Without another word, Ianto made his way out through the back door of the office, leaving the tray propped against the wall. Jack sighed and wrapped his hands around the mug, eyes still following Ianto, mind wondering back to the many nights he had shared with him before all hell broke lose when Lisa was discovered. He missed the Welshman: the quiet conversations over a mug of coffee or a glass of scotch, the seduction game, the flirting, the comfort, the sex, the silent support.

He found himself reminiscing the first time he had seen Ianto, arriving at just the right moment to help him deal with a weevil and making him curious and wary at the same time. Knowing it had all been part of the young man's plan to get himself hired and sneak his cyberconverted girlfriend into the Hub hurt more than it should, and Jack was still surprised by his own reaction when the truth came out, the anger and betrayal bubbling inside him until he trained a gun on Ianto's head. For a few days, he had been angry at Ianto, and clutched to the idea that Ianto never saw their time together as anything more than a way to distract Jack from what was going on right under his nose.

Yet the laughter they had shared the night they caught Myfanwy, as they rolled on the floor to avoid the falling dinosaur, the brief moment before Ianto composed himself and stood up again, told a different story. So did the warmth in Ianto's voice earlier in the day when caught off balance by Jack's presence in the Hub, or the little smiles that accompanied every mug of coffee. The truth was, he didn't know what to believe anymore when it came to the young Archivist.

Jack barely heard the soft steps approaching his office or the door opening. When he looked up, he found Ianto staring at him from the doorway, left hand in his pocket. Jack could see Ianto trying not to frown when he spotted the mug of cold coffee still on the desk. Raising his eyebrows, he wondered how long he had been lost in his own mind, and when had Ianto become one of the most frequent topics for his mind to get lost in.

"You shouldn't be here." Mirroring the conversation they had had in the morning, Jack waited for Ianto to set the tone. Still puzzled by Ianto's earlier reaction, Jack kept his eyes on him, taking in every detail. The loosened tie, the unbuttoned jacket, the slightly less perfect appearance that was such a rare sight when it came to Ianto, that he had enjoyed so many nights. The young man gave him that half smile he knew so well, and Jack started to believe maybe, just maybe, not everything had been lost. Flashes of the weeks Ianto had spent on suspension, of their brief encounters, of cold, professional chats slowly transforming into something closer to a friendly conversation, raced in Jack's mind.

"Neither should you." Jack was once again taken aback by Ianto's reply, the softness of his voice. It still had a hint of the flirtatious, cheeky tone that had become Ianto's trademark and gave Jack thrills. It still had the edge of pain too recent and too raw to be masked. But it also seemed to offer the promise of healing. Jack kept his eyes on Ianto as he stretched his neck, suddenly all too aware of the tiredness and aches accumulated in his muscles. He needed a hot shower and a good night of sleep, although he would settle for just the latter.

"Why are you still here, Ianto?" A question, like any other, to break the silence. Jack wondered whether the Welshman would ever become any easier to read. He, Captain Jack Harkness, ex Time Agent, capable of reading people like an open book most of the time, was at a loss when it came to the quiet, unassuming and reserved Ianto. Jack didn't doubt his commitment to Torchwood, or his loyalty. Not after the night, back in Ianto's place, when the young man had unambiguously told him there were not, and never would be, any more secrets like Lisa. He just wanted to know where they stood, and how much of the façade had been real.

"You shouldn't be alone, Sir." Warmth, invitation, all nicely wrapped in Ianto's usual polite voice. "Not after... not tonight." Jack watched him as he stared out the door, across the Hub, and suddenly noticed the desk area was empty. A quick glance at his watch made him curse: the whole afternoon had gone by, and he hadn't even noticed. "The others have already left." The mention of the team sent Jack's mind back to the events of the day. The shouting, the accusations, the poisoned looks.

"They think I'm a monster for letting the Fairies take the girl." Ianto flinched at the words, as if he really hadn't known what had gone down and the Prices' home. Shaking his head, Jack wondered whether 'monster' was the word of choice to apply to him these days. "They would've destroyed the world." Ianto nodded, barely.

"You are the leader of Torchwood Three; you make the decisions no one else dares make." Jack found himself glued to his chair as Ianto turned around and made his way to the desk, perching at the end of it as he used to do in his early days. "It wasn't the right thing to do, Jack, but there was no other option." Ianto averted his eyes, staring at his own feet.

Jack was stunned by the words, by the near forgiveness he could see in them. He shook his head; it was too early for forgiveness, even though the first steps had been – were being – taken. Then it hit him. Acceptance. Trust. Jack couldn't help but smile at Ianto, patting his arm. He noticed Ianto's unbuttoned collar, a sight unseen even in the complicity of the nights they had spent together. The only place Jack had seen Ianto lose so much of his suit of armour had been his bed. Licking his lips, Jack swallowed hard, suddenly all too aware of his racing pulse. As Ianto tried to stand up, Jack held his arm, causing him to fall back onto the desk.

"Stay?" Jack asked, putting up his best apologetic look when Ianto scowled at him. He could see the battle in Ianto's eyes, in the quickening of the young man's pulse under his fingers, in the sharp breath that escaped Ianto's lips. Shaking his head, Jack realized it was too early for that; Ianto was still distant, and trying to drag him back faster than he was ready for would not help. "Never mind," he added, letting go of Ianto, crossing his hands in front of him and keeping his eyes on them.

He could still hear Ianto moving about the office, but resisted the urge to look up until a glass of what could only be scotch – his good stock of scotch - found its way to his hands. He stared at Ianto, sitting across the desk from him, half wondering if he was really there. "Thanks." His voice came out too close to a whisper for his liking as his hand brushed against Ianto's when he grabbed the glass. Lifting it into a silent toast, he watched Ianto follow suit. For a while they just sat there, staring at each other and sipping their drinks.

"The others are not the first ones to call you a monster." Ianto's soft voice broke the silence, bringing Jack back from the storm of memories that still threatened to engulf him, that he sometimes wished he could forget but knew he couldn't, because someone had to remember. "They will not be the first ones to change their minds." Jack studied the young man carefully. Had Ianto, despite his promise to make him suffer for what he did to Lisa, finally accepted that someone had to put a stop to it? Jack stood up and made his way to the glass door. He liked the view from up there, the ever changing yet ever unchanged view of the Hub, reflecting the comings and goings of everybody but him.

"What if they are right? What if I am a monster?" The pain in his voice hit him hard as a blow. He cleared his throat and stubbornly tried to blink the threat of tears away. Ianto moved behind him, the ever precise, calming presence he could somehow always sense in a room. Yet the hand on his shoulder nearly made him jump. He turned his head and stared into the blue eyes looking at him. He wasn't used to being so vulnerable, so open, so naked – well, not in this way – yet the reassuring nod Ianto gave him nearly made him forget it. "So much death. So much loss." He looked ahead again, feeling the sting of tears in his cheeks. He could feel Ianto behind him, so close yet so out of reach. He could nearly feel the whirlwind inside the Welshman's head; Ianto was a very private man, but once Jack had gotten to know him, he could see certain things in the way he moved, or talked, or simply stood in the room.

He didn't move when Ianto dug his fingers in his shoulders, bringing back so many memories. Then the pressure disappeared and Ianto walked away. Another wasted opportunity to turn the page on the whole Lisa incident, on all the lies and betrayal that accompanied it. The young man let out a frustrated sigh.

"You are not a monster, Jack." Something inside Jack snapped; he turned around, closed the distance between them and buried his head on Ianto's shoulders, holding on to him as if he were his only lifeline. For a second, he held his breath, half dreading Ianto would push him away, half wanting him to, half hoping he wouldn't. One, two, three heartbeats. Then he felt Ianto's arms close around him. Soothing. Forgiving. Relief raced through Jack, mixing with the pain that threatened to bring back the darkest parts of him; maybe all wasn't lost yet.

Ianto's soft voice in his ears, murmuring what could only be Welsh, undid Jack completely. His body relaxed as he allowed himself to cry, cursing the trail of death and destruction that seemed to follow him. On a good day, having to carry on despite the losses, despite everything, was just bearable. On a bad one, it made him wish he didn't have to carry on. He was tired,. Tired of being Captain Jack Harkness, unsung hero of Torchwood, always ready to save the world regardless of the price he had to pay, or make others pay. Tired of losing everybody he cared for. Tired of the pain, of the hurt, of the futility of it all, even though he knew it wasn't futile at all. At least not always.

He held Ianto tight, suddenly aware of how bizarre it was for him, of all people, to be comforting him. Maybe, as the young man had said one of the nights they met after Lisa died, they had too much in common. The most fucked up lives in the world, as Ianto had colourfully put it, before slamming an empty glass on the table. Pain recognizing pain in somebody else.

A soft kiss on his head brought him back to now; with a sigh, he tightened his grip on Ianto's waist and moved a little until he found a comfortable position on his shoulder, bodies pressed together as they hadn't been for a long time. Jack breathed in deeply, wondering if from now on it would take death and destruction for him and Ianto to get this close. Closing his eyes, Jack tried to fix the memory of the moment, as he had done with so many other nearly-gone lovers before.

Only when Ianto let out a quiet moan did Jack realize his lips were ghosting on Ianto's neck, just above the collar. He started apologizing, pretty much certain he had overstepped the mark of what the young man intended to share, and was shocked when Ianto's arms wrapped around him again, pulling him closer, and he uttered a firm "Jack, shush." Never one to argue with orders – well, at least not when it suited him not to – Jack settled his head on Ianto's shoulder once again and tried to stop the whirlwind in his head.

Closing his eyes again, Jack pushed everything that wasn't here and now out of his mind. Thoughts and pain that had been torturing him ever since he returned to the Hub started to slowly ebb away, just like every time Ianto held him. There was something about the young man that seemed to anchor him to the present and allowed him to leave the past and the hurt that accompanied it where it belong. Was Ianto even aware of the effect he had on him? Jack's lips curled in the beginning of a smile. Yes, probably Ianto knew all too well that Jack sometimes let his guard down with him. He was too sharp not to have noticed.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. Yet he placed a soft kiss right below Ianto's collar, and something stirred deep inside him when felt him arch into the touch, tilting his head. He missed him, his touch and his presence and his sarcasm, his suits and the calm manner he carried himself with. He missed his quiet smiles and his quick wits. He missed everything they had shared ever since Ianto first arrived at the Hub. Even if some – or all – of it had been a lie.

And he knew getting too close to Ianto would only bring pain in the end. With a sigh, he lifted his head and stared at the young man, trying to convince himself to pull away, to send him home and leave things as they were, when they could be civil to each other and work together, even after the lies and the deceit. Yet he didn't move. He wanted Ianto, he wanted the warmth he brought to his empty life. He didn't want to hurt him by leaving when the Doctor appeared; the kid didn't deserve being used like that. He didn't want to watch him die, neither young as a result of Torchwood, nor consumed by old age. He just wanted... He shook his head.

"I shouldn't have...." He tried to apologize and move away, but Ianto wasn't up for it. The young man's hand crawled up Jack's back to his cheek as Ianto's lips brushed softly against his own. Before he had time to react, Jack found himself leaning against the wall behind him, Ianto's body pressed against his own. Jack brought his hands to Ianto's neck, and dived into the kiss, shamelessly fighting the young man for control, but he was having none of it. Pulling him even closer, Jack bit Ianto's bottom lip, and was rewarded by a soft moan that rang through his whole body. Jack gave in to the touch, revelling in the man in front of him, in the passion he brought to every kiss, every touch, every hitched breath. Enough to make him forget the hurt. Enough to remind him life, and everything that came with it, were worth the pain.

Jack opened his eyes when Ianto rested his forehead on his, and stared into the young man's eyes. He was so close all Jack had to do to capture that soft mouth of his was tilt his head. He dug his fingers on Ianto's sides, hoping he wouldn't move away, digging them deeper when Ianto ran his thumb along his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. He missed Ianto. He wanted Ianto. But he couldn't handle the pain any more.

"You need some rest." The young man's voice cut his train of thoughts. "I should go, let you catch up on some sleep..." Jack saw the same battle in Ianto: judging by his words, he didn't want to stay; judging by the way he melted into Jack's arms when he held him and pulled him closer, he didn't want to go. Jack snorted at the thought of the irony in the situation. A few weeks ago they had threatened to kill each other, betrayals - not only Ianto's - had been revealed, lies had been uncovered. Now they seemed to be comforting each other after one of the worst days in recent – and no so recent – Torchwood history.

"Stay?" he whispered into Ianto's ear, feeling the warmth of his skin under his lips, barely a hairsbreadth away. "I...." His voice broke. He trusted Ianto. Yet it felt strange to reveal anything about himself, even to someone who had shared his bed. Ianto's fingers ghosted over his neck, barely touching, yet so demanding. How ironic that Ianto, who never asked a question, always got all the answers from him, the secretive Captain Jack Harkness nobody knew anything about. "I can't sleep."

"I've never known you to sleep much," Ianto replied matter-of-factly. Jack snorted, hands busy untucking Ianto's shirt and slowly crawling up his back, relishing the feeling of naked skin under his fingers.

"Less than usual." Jack bit Ianto's neck, as far down as the open collar allowed him, causing the young man to buckle against him. He had learned soon enough Ianto did quite enjoy being marked... provided he could hide it under a suit, and Jack was, as always, more than happy to oblige.

"Bad dreams?" Jack's knee found its way between Ianto's, pressing just the right place to make the Welshman moan and move even closer, all want and need. Jack's lips curled in the beginning of a small smile at Ianto's reaction; he still enjoyed discovering a new lover, and Ianto had proven to be an interesting challenge. Ianto mirrored his smile and run his hands over Jack's shoulders, apparently too lost in the moment to care about much else.

All of a sudden, Jack found himself pulling away from Ianto, hitting his head hard against the glass behind him, a hand still on Ianto's neck, torn between taking a step away and burying his head on his shoulders again. The Welshman's eyes bore into his for a minute before it became too much and Jack looked away, unsure he could explain the turmoil inside him even if he wanted to. Memories started spinning in his head again, days, months, years, decades; the faces of all those who had lost their lives after getting involved with Torchwood in one way or another spinning around, all blurring into pain and loss. Death followed him like a curse, taking everyone around him but leaving him behind.

"It always ends up in death," he found himself saying. He couldn't tell whether Ianto pulled him back or he sank back into his arms. "I just...." His breath caught in his throat as words kept spilling, revealing more than he wanted to. Ianto held him, hands slowly tracing patterns on his back, his shoulders, his neck. Jack couldn't remember feeling so doomed and tired and vulnerable in front of anybody else in a long time. He lost track of time, cradled in Ianto's arms. It took a long time before he even started to calm down.

"Come on. Get some rest." Ianto's voice, barely a whisper, startled him. He let out a sigh as the young man stepped back, still holding on to him, and started walking towards the hatch that led to Jack's quarters. Jack followed him, stopping after a few steps.

"I told you, I can't sleep." Jack nearly smiled when Ianto rolled him eyes, a clear sign he had come to recognize.

"You can at least rest." Jack gave him a sideways look, wondering what good it would do. "I'll stay, if you want me too." His heart racing, he swallowed hard. Maybe not everything was lost between them. Maybe he was still enough of a fool to believe. He gave Ianto a small smile and stepped down the ladder, taking his boots and socks off before sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. Ianto came down and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his leg.

"Lie down. Close your eyes." Ianto's voice was strangely soothing and demanding at the same time. Jack found himself undoing his shirt and taking it off as Ianto stood up and moved away. He couldn't help a small smile; despite everything they had shared, Ianto was still strangely shy sometimes. He threw the shirt across the room and made quick work of the rest of his clothing, eyes following Ianto as he stubbornly looked the other way.

Jack lay down, bed creaking with his every move as he sneaked under the covers, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. He could imagine Ianto picking up the clothes he had just scattered around the room, placing them neatly over some piece of furniture or another. Then the bed sank behind him as Ianto sat behind him, running a hand though his hair. Jack caught it as Ianto tried to stand up.

"Stay?" Half expecting Ianto to back out and make his way upstairs, Jack bit his lip. "You need some sleep as well." Where did the warmth in his voice come from?

"You need a bigger bed," Ianto muttered behind him, extricating his hand from Jack's. Even without looking, Jack could picture the scene. First the light would go out – Ianto liked the intimacy of a dark room. Then he would take off his shirt, his shoes, his socks, his trousers.

"Small beds are easier to keep warm on my own." Bitterness replaced the warmth in his voice, and Jack wondered, once again, why he had asked Ianto to stay. As the young man sneaked onto the bed, Jack had to admit Ianto was right: the bed was too small for the two of them to sleep comfortably, but up to now they had never really slept in it. As Ianto's body pressed against his back and draped an arm over his waist, Jack held his hand. He tried to move, and ended up hitting Ianto on the ribs a couple of times. Ianto shushed him before he even started to apologize.

"Thank you, Ianto." Barely a whisper. Jack's mind wandered back to the few times he had shared a bed with someone just like this, simply lying together and comforting each other. One name hit him. Estelle... They had exchanged vows as meaningful to him as his earlier marriages, and shared their lives for what had felt like barely a brief moment, until war had made them part. He still remembered their last night together, their last breakfast, their last goodbye... Meeting her again after all those years, hadn't been easy. He had more than once wished he could tell her the truth and stop pretending to be his own son, but he never dared: he could have lost her forever.

He felt Ianto's grip around him tightening, placing fluttering kisses on his neck, muttering what sounded like Welsh in a low voice. Blinking hard, Jack only noticed he had been crying when he run a hand over his face and found tears. He took a deep breath and struggled to calm down, holding on to Ianto's presence as the only link to here and now.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

By the time Jack came out of his office, still doing up the buttons of his shirt, Ianto was already standing by the coffee machine, freshly showered and in the spare suit Jack knew he kept somewhere in the Hub but had never found. Taking a deep breath, Jack made his way up the stairs, wondering what Ianto would have to say about the night before.

"You were the last person I expected to stay last night," he murmured. Ianto didn't turn around, and seemed completely focused on brewing coffee. "I thought Gwen may stay and give me an earful, or maybe Owen would try to drag me out on a piss-up night. But you..." Ianto turned around with two mugs of his morning blend in his hands, brushing his fingers against Jack's as he passed him one of them.

"Why?" Ianto hid behind the mug, eyes fixed on Jack. A few alternative answers crossed Jack's mind, but he knew that look was the Welshman's way of demanding the truth. It was something he had learnt shortly after their late night conversations started. He let out a sigh and put on his best smirk.

"You promised to make me suffer." His words made Ianto look away; the look on his face reminded Jack of the times they had spent together after Lisa's death. The first few nights neither of them could face the other, they had just drunk in silence. A few days later, Jack had found himself staring at Ianto, eyes glued to the young man who still refused to look at him. Eventually, Ianto had relented. It had taken a few more days before they started talking.

"Yeah, I did." Barely a whisper; they were good at that, barely whispering to each other. Generally the biggest truths they had spoken to each other had been silent. "Do you really want to go over all the shit we've been through? Every betrayal, every threat, every lie?" Jack found himself shaking his head, wishing he could put all of it behind.

"Wouldn't get us anywhere." This time it was Jack's turn to hid behind his coffee and look away, catching a smirk on Ianto's face. He paused for a moment, struggling for words. Maybe it was time to stop the blaming game. He took a deep breath. Maybe it was time for honesty.

"Torchwood didn't give you any choices when it came to Lisa. Not Torchwood London, not us. You risked a whole universe for her." He patted Ianto's arms, an offering of peace and a silent question.

"I don't expect any of you to understand why I did what I did." Ianto's voice broke, and Jack could see the tears in his eyes. Haven't you ever loved anyone, Ianto had asked when Lisa had been discovered. Jack wondered how Ianto would react if he knew. About his wife, about Estelle, about so many people he had met along his long life. About how, even after every painful loss, his heart still seemed not to learn the lesson and to find someone new to ache for.

"Oh but we do." He stared at Ianto, aware of the pain seeping into his voice. "I do." Would Ianto understand? Jack held his breath, heart pounding loud in his ears.

"I know." Something stirred inside Jack at the sight of the smirk on Ianto's face. As the young man passed him on his way to the bowels of the hub, straightening his tie and recovering his neat, tidy persona, he patted Jack's shoulder. Jack hoped Ianto wasn't bluffing.

"Ianto!" he called after him. The young man turned around, curiosity plastered on his face. "I'm glad you stayed." Ianto nodded, murmured something he couldn't quite catch and carried on. Taking a sip of his coffee, he made his way back to the office, closing the door behind him, hoping to fend off the questions one more day. "I wouldn't had made it through the night on my own."


End file.
